


A Little More Light

by MacksDramaticShenanigans



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1930s, 1940s, Boys In Love, Dreidel, Family, First Kiss, Found Family, Hanukkah, History of Hanukkah, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Jewish Holidays, Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Steve Rogers is so loved, The Barnes Family Loves Steve, just a few lines of it!, עברית | Hebrew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 03:30:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16824229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacksDramaticShenanigans/pseuds/MacksDramaticShenanigans
Summary: “C’mon, Stevie. There’s no way I’m lettin’ you spend the holidays all alone. Besides, Ma’s expectin’ you, and if you don’t show she’s gonna be real upset,” Bucky prods, poking his toe into Steve’s side. They’re sprawled out on Steve’s ratty old sofa, Steve perched on one end, intently focused on whatever he’s drawing in that sketchbook of his, while Bucky takes up the rest of the couch by stretching across the cushions.Steve’s pencil stills against the page, and he sets it down, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips as he fixes a thoroughly unimpressed stare onto Bucky. “Using your Ma to guilt me into crashing your holiday celebrations is a dirty, dirty trick, Barnes.”“How many times do I hafta tell you, you ain’t crashin’ anything. We want you there,” Bucky assures, and bends down so his head falls into Steve’s line of sight, which has dropped back down to his sketchbook. Bucky’s practically lying in his lap now, and he reaches a hand up to touch Steve’s cheek, soft and gentle. “Iwant you there.”





	A Little More Light

**Author's Note:**

> So, tonight is the first night of Hanukkah, and Jewish!Bucky is one of my all time favorite headcanons, so yesterday in the midst of working on my bang fic, I decided against all better judgement, that I wanted to write a fic for the first night of Hanukkah that included Jewish!Bucky. And here it is! 
> 
> This fic holds very dear to my heart, as I’m Jewish and celebrate Hanukkah myself, and also because, as I said, I adore the Jewish!Bucky headcanon. There’s quiet a bit of history and explaining of certain traditions in this, after all Bucky is introducing Steve to them, but I did my best to try and make them as easy to understand and as interesting as possible! Hopefully I was successful there haha. 
> 
> I wrote this thing in two days and I really wanted to post it today so I didn’t have time to get it betaed, so all mistakes are my own! 
> 
> The title, for once, isn’t from a song! Haha. I found it on a Hanukkah greeting card lol.
> 
> Anyways, I hope everyone is able to learn something from this fic, and most importantly I hope everyone enjoys themselves when they read it! 
> 
> Happy Hanukkah!! 
> 
> (Also, just to clarify— Bucky is 19, Becca is 17, Alice is 15, Charlotte and Jane are twins and they’re 12! And Steve’s 18 of course.)

“C’mon, Stevie. There’s no way I’m lettin’ you spend the holidays all alone. Besides, Ma’s expectin’ you, and if you don’t show she’s gonna be real upset,” Bucky prods, poking his toe into Steve’s side. They’re sprawled out on Steve’s ratty old sofa, Steve perched on one end, intently focused on whatever he’s drawing in that sketchbook of his, while Bucky takes up the rest of the couch by stretching across the cushions. 

Steve’s pencil stills against the page, and he sets it down, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips as he fixes a thoroughly unimpressed stare onto Bucky. “Using your Ma to guilt me into crashing your holiday celebrations is a dirty, dirty trick, Barnes.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and struggles to sit up before crawling over to Steve’s side. He slings an arm around Steve’s neck and wrangles him in close. Steve doesn’t try to fight it— he knows he won’t win, and anyway he quite likes being wrapped up in Bucky’s arms like this. 

“How many times do I hafta tell you, you ain’t crashin’ anything. We want you there,” Bucky assures, and bends down so his head falls into Steve’s line of sight, which has dropped back down to his sketchbook. Bucky’s practically lying in his lap now, and he reaches a hand up to touch Steve’s cheek, soft and gentle. “ _ I _ want you there.”

The earnestness behind Bucky’s words and the affection in his touch tugs at Steve’s heart and pulls his gaze back to Bucky’s face. His eyes meet wide, sincere blue ones, and the intensity of Bucky’s gaze makes it harder for Steve to remember why he keeps refusing. When Bucky looks at him like that, it feels like home, like there’s nowhere else Steve would rather be than wherever Bucky is. 

“If it’s ‘cause you ain’t comfortable celebratin’ Hanukkah with us, then you don’t hafta. I don’t wanna push you into doin’ something you don’t wanna,” Bucky says, voice coming out small and timid. “You just shouldn’t be alone during the holidays. ‘Specially not after your Ma…” he trails off, letting his voice die out.

The mention of his Ma stings, what with her death still so fresh, but it does help Steve realize that if he were to spend the holidays alone he’d just be wallowing in his own sadness and self-pity. It would be nice to be around other people— his  _ favorite _ other people, no less— and their holiday cheer. A distraction could be nice. There’s nothing like a good home cooked meal and some festivities to do the trick. He knows his Ma would want him to go; would probably be whacking his backside with a dish towel for even considering not going. 

Steve shakes his head, and reaches out to grab Bucky’s hand. “No, no Buck, it’s not that at all. I’d love to learn the kinds of traditions you and your family have,” he reassures sincerely. 

Bucky lights back up, and that bright, crinkly-eyed smile Steve loves so much breaks out across his face. “Yeah? You mean that, punk?” He asks, happiness coloring his tone. When Steve nods, Bucky gives his hand a squeeze. “I’ll teach you all about Hanukkah, Stevie. All about it,” he promises, excitement oozing from his voice. “I’ll show you how to play dreidel— you gotta watch out for Alice, though. She wipes me clean of all my gelt every single time, I dunno how she does it. I can teach you the prayers we say when we light the menorah, if you want. Ma might let you help with the latkes, but you’re shit in the kitchen so it probably ain’t smart to do that. I’m better at cookin’ than you and she won’t even let  _ me _ help. Says she and Becca have a particular way of makin’ ‘em.” 

If Steve knew accepting the invitation to join the Barnes family’s Hanukkah celebrations would have gotten Bucky  _ this _ excited, he would’ve agreed a long time ago. Anything that makes Bucky happy makes Steve happy, and right now Bucky’s never looked happier. 

  
  


When Steve walks into the Barnes residence later that evening, he’s hit with a wave of warmth that already begins to take the chill out of his bones, and the delicious scent of potatoes, onions, and oil. He lets his eyes fall shut for a moment as he savors it all, and he takes a big whiff. His lips curl into a smile that he just can’t help. 

Bucky bumps his shoulder into Steve’s, knocking him out of his trance, and grins at him. “Those are Ma’s famous potato latkes. I hope you like the smell, ‘cause you ain’t gettin’ it outta your clothes for weeks,” he laughs. 

His voice must carry further into the house, because not even a full minute later Charlotte comes running into the room, Jane hot on her heels, and the two of them skid into Bucky’s arms, shouting their  _ hello _ ’s. 

Bucky catches them both, one in each arm, and lifts them, spinning them around. Their happy shrieks fill the room, until Bucky slows and lets them back down. 

“Ma! Ma! Bucky’s home!” Charlotte calls towards the kitchen, where Winnie Barnes is slaving over the hot stove with Rebecca at her side. 

“And he brought Steve!” Jane chimes excitedly, letting go of her brother so she can throw herself at Steve and wrap him up in a hug too. 

Steve, having been subject to many spontaneous Barnes hugs in his life, doesn’t even flinch. Just catches Jane and hugs her back. He doesn’t lift her up like Bucky did, though. She’s too heavy, and he’s too frail for that. 

“Steve? Did you say Steve’s here?” Alice calls, poking her head out of the kitchen. She’s blushing already, but when she spots Steve the rosiness of her cheeks only grows darker. A shy smile creeps onto her face and she tucks some hair behind her ear before sending Steve a small wave. 

Bucky snorts and elbows Steve. “I told you Alice’s got a crush on you,” he whispers, snickering. 

Steve feels  _ himself _ start to go pink at that. As flattering as it is, Alice is only fifteen, and she’s no Bucky Barnes anyway. Not to mention, even if Steve wasn’t already secretly in love with her older brother, he would feel awfully awkward taking one of his best friend’s sisters out. 

“You two are just in time,” Becca interjects, stepping out of the kitchen. She looks every bit the daughter of Winnie Barnes with her apron covered in oil splatters and streaks of flour across her cheek. Her hair’s tied up from the cooking, but she’s wearing a nice sweater and a clean skirt underneath the apron. “Ma and I are almost done with the latkes,” she announces. “Steve, do you want applesauce with yours? Or sour cream?” 

Steve blinks dumbly at Becca before turning to Bucky. He knows he must look like a deer caught in the headlights, but he can’t help it. He’s never had latkes before. He doesn’t know if there’s a right answer here, or if one tastes better than the other. 

Bucky just grins and throws an arm around Steve’s shoulders, leading him into the kitchen. “I’d go with sour cream, if I were you,” he says. “Applesauce is fine and dandy, but sour cream is much better.”

“James Barnes, you’d better not be talking down my homemade applesauce,” Winnie reprimands as the two of them enter the kitchen. She’s got her hands on her hips and a stern, motherly look on her face, but it quickly melts away into something fonder. 

“Oh, Ma, you know I’d never,” Bucky replies, removing himself from Steve’s side long enough to peck his mother’s cheek, and do a little kissing up. He steps up to the stove and dips a finger into the pot of applesauce simmering there. “Mmm, delicious.”

Winnie gives Bucky an affronted look and snaps her dishtowel at him. “Get your fingers out of there, mister,” she chastises before turning towards Steve, her smile returning. “Steve, my dear,” she greets, taking hold of both of his shoulders. She gives him a look over and pulls him in for a hug. “How are you doing, sweetie?”

Steve smiles politely back at Winnie. “M’alright,” he responds. It’s mostly honest. It still hurts to think of his mother, and to go home to an empty house, but he’s been getting better with each day that passes. “Thank you for inviting me here,” he adds. 

Winnie waves a hand through the air, brushing his gratitude off. “Steve, you’re always welcome here. We’re all very glad you’ve decided to join us.”

“Thank you,” Steve repeats. He can feel his heart swelling against his ribcage, threatening to burst right out. He thinks it’s entirely possible too, given how delicate his bones are. Especially if the Barneses keep their hospitality up— which Steve knows they will. They’ve always been like a second family to Steve; Winnie his second mother, and George the father he never had. There hasn’t been a single second that Steve has ever felt out of place when he was with the Barneses. He feels incredibly lucky to have them as his support system in such a hard time of his life. Before he can even begin to put any of that into words, Alice interrupts.

“Ma!” She calls from the living room. “Where’d we put the menorah?” 

Winnie pats Steve’s cheek and gives him a smile before squeezing past him and stopping in the archway of the kitchen. “Ask you father, Alice. He cleaned it and put it away last year.” 

“Wanna help me set the table?” Bucky asks, startling Steve out of his thoughts as he sidles up to him, silverware and fancy cloth napkins already in hand. 

“Sure thing, Buck,” Steve replies with a nod. 

Bucky passes him the silverware and napkins and grabs a stack of plates from the cupboard, and the two of them move around the table, laying everything out nice and neat. 

When it’s finally time to eat, Steve can’t quite believe his eyes as he takes in the spread of dishes across the table. There’s a platter stacked high with dozens of latkes, each one golden and perfectly crisp. On either side of the platter lies two bowls, one filled with Winnie’s homemade applesauce, the other with sour cream. Off to the left a beautiful braided bread— challah, as he’s informed it’s called— is set out, and off to the right sits a dish of kugel. Winnie tells them that she has sufganiyah, the traditional jelly doughnuts that dated back to the 15th century, for dessert.

Steve takes a little of everything. Of course he does. It’s more food than he’s seen on one table for a long time, so he knows the Barneses must have saved a pretty penny to be able to afford all of it. But even then, it all looks so good, he wants a taste of everything. 

He starts with the latkes. With sour cream, as Bucky advised. The second the first bite touches his tongue, Steve feels like he’s in heaven. The latkes are  _ delicious _ . Crunchy on the outside, warm and fluffy on the inside. “God, it’s like I’m eating a deep fried cloud,” Steve says, earning laughter all around. 

“You done good, Ma,” Bucky compliments around his own bite of latke.

The whole table falls into a comfortable silence as everyone digs into their meal, but it isn’t long until the conversation starts flowing, laughter and happiness from every corner. 

“So, Steve,” George says, pointing his fork Steve’s way. “What do you know about Hanukkah?” 

Steve swallows his bite of challah and wipes the corner of his napkin over his mouth before answering. “Oh, well, not very much, if I’m being honest,” he replies sheepishly.

George nods and takes a sip of his drink. “You’re not familiar with the history behind Hanukkah, then?” 

“No, sir,” Steve reponds, shaking his head.

“Aw, well, don’t you worry, Stevie,” Bucky chimes in, flashing him a grin. “I told you I’d teach you all about it.” 

Steve sets his fork down and folds his napkin in his lap, then turns his full attention to Bucky. “Alright then, lemme have it,” he says.

“Back in about 200 B.C., Israel was ruled by this guy named King Antiochus, and he didn’t like that there were multiple cultures and religions. He thought it’d be best if there was just one, thought it’d be easier to rule.”

Steve’s face immediately scrunches up, and he can feel his blood boiling in anger. Already, he doesn’t like this King Antiochus guy. 

Bucky must notice his anger, because he grins fondly at Steve as he continues. “Because of this, King Antiochus forbid the practice of Judaism, which meant that all the Jews in Israel couldn’t celebrate their festivals or traditions, they couldn’t study from the Torah, and they couldn’t worship at the Temple, which was pretty much the center of Jewish life,” he explains. “You’re not gonna like this, but a lot of people just let it happen and didn’t do anything about it.” 

Steve nods. “You’re right, I don’t like that,” he says. 

“But,” Bucky says, pausing for dramatic effect. He holds a finger up too. “There was a group of people that didn’t agree with King Antiochus. They were called the Maccabees, and they didn’t like that their Temple was taken from them or that they weren’t free to practice whatever religion they wanted to.”

Steve found himself filling with pride at that. This group— the Maccabees— sounded like his kind of people. The kinds that don’t sit back and let people walk all over them or take away their rights, but the people that stand up for what they believe in, no matter what. 

“The Maccabees did exactly what you woulda done. They fought back. Y’know, if you were a Jew alive during this time, I’d bet everything I have that you woulda been a Maccabee,” Bucky laughs.

“You think so?” Steve asks, chuckling along. He goes a little pink in the cheeks though, at the insinuation. He knows he gets into a lot of fights, but Steve likes to think they’re all for a good reason. He doesn’t like getting punched, but he’s willing to if it means someone is better off from it. 

Bucky nods. “I  _ know _ so,” he says. “Anyways, the Maccabees fought back, and they were able to successfully take back their Temple. When they got there the place was a mess ‘cause King Antiochus didn’t take care of the place. So they got to work fixin’ it up, and they needed light to do so, but they only found enough oil to light the menorah for one day. It turned out that the oil lasted for eight days instead— a miracle. So that’s why Hanukkah lasts eight days, and we light a candle in the menorah on each night. Not only are we celebratin’ this miracle, but we’re also celebratin’ the religious freedom of everyone too.” 

When Bucky finishes the story, he gives a nod and glances around the table. His sisters and parents have proud smiles on their faces where they’re sitting tall in their seats. The story clearly means a lot to each of them, and as Steve takes it all in, he too feels its importance. He may not be Jewish himself, but this story and the fight the Maccabees put up is one that can resonate with anyone, no matter their religion. Fighting for the right to freedom of any sort is such an important battle, one that everyone should take part in because everyone deserves to have those freedoms. It’s something Steve’s very passionate about. 

“That’s a real great story,” Steve finally says, a polite smile on his face. “S’a real good message it sends. I really like that.” 

Bucky lightly kicks his ankle underneath the table, his grin growing. “I knew you would,” he says, lips quirking into a half smirk. 

“Can we teach Steve how to play dreidel now?” Jane asks, her doe eyes wide and eager. 

“Ooh! Yes! Dreidel! Dreidel!” Charlotte cries, excitedly clapping her hands together. 

A wicked smirk spreads across Alice’s face and she folds her hands together on top of the table. “Let’s  _ please _ teach Steve how to play,” she says, sweetly and innocently. “I wanna play against him.”

Bucky leans into Steve’s space, his breath ghosting against Steve’s ear as he whispers. “You better catch on quick, I need someone to help me take her down this year.” 

Steve chuckles under his breath, and when he catches Bucky’s eyes, Bucky winks at him.

“Ma! Pa! Can we? Can we go play?” Jane questions, batting her eyes at her mother and father.

Winnie and George share a look before turning to their children and Steve. “Go on,” Winnie says, waving a hand towards the living room. Jane and Charlotte don’t wait a single second more and are off, shooting into the living room to find the dreidel and the chocolate gelt. “Thankfully there’s not too much to clean up here.” 

“Do you want some help with the cleaning, Mrs. Barnes?” Steve pipes up, politely. 

Winnie smiles warmly at him and shakes her head. “Thank you, Steve, but it’s alright. We can handle it, don’t you think, George?” 

George nods at his wife and slips his arm around her, pecking her cheek sweetly. “Yes we do,” he agrees. “Thank you for the kind offer, Steve,” he adds. 

“Thank you for the fantastic meal,” Steve replies. “It was really delicious, Mrs. Barnes.”

“You’re such a gentleman, Steve,” Winnie cooes. “James, you should take some notes,” she teases. 

“Gee, thanks, Ma,” Bucky says with a snort.

“Oh, you know I’m just kidding with you. You’re a perfect gentleman, too, dear. Now, you boys go. Before all the gelt’s gone,” Winnie chuckles, shooing Steve and Bucky away from the dinner table. 

Out in the living room, there’s already a wild game of dreidel going on between Charlotte and Jane. Each girl has a pile of gold chocolate coins in front of her, and they’re taking turns spinning the dreidel, watching intently to see what side it lands on.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Bucky says, dragging Steve into their circle. The two of them plop down and fold their legs up. “You guys gotta let Steve learn how it’s done before you start a game.” 

Jane pouts, pushing her lower lip out dramatically. “But I already got more gelt than Charlotte!” She exclaims, pointing at her pile.

Bucky just shakes his head. “Nope, no way. You gotta start over. We’ll all play in this round and we’ll teach Stevie how it’s done as we go.” 

“Fine,” Jane huffs, pushing her gelt to the middle. Charlotte does the same, and Bucky pulls it all towards himself so he can equally divvy it out. 

“Hey, wait for me, I wanna play,” Alice says, bouncing into the room. She makes her way over to the circle and takes a place next to Steve. “Don’t worry,” she tells him, patting his knee. “I’ll go easy on you.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes at her and passes out stacks of gelt to each person in the circle. “Okay,” he declares once everyone has their gelt. He reaches for the dreidel that’s lying on its side in the center of their circle and holds it out for Steve to see. “The dreidel has four sides to it. There’s the  _ shin _ side, the  _ hey _ side, the  _ gimel _ side, and the  _ nun _ side. If you land on the  _ shine _ side, that means you gotta put a piece of gelt in the middle. If you land on the  _ hey _ side, that means you get half the pot, so half of whatever’s collected in the middle. The  _ gimel _ side’s the one you really want, ‘cause that means you get the whole pot. And if you land on the  _ nun _ side—”

“You get none!” Charlotte finishes, flashing Steve and Bucky a grin. “Jane lands on the  _ nun _ side all the time,” she teases.

Jane gives her a shove and shakes her head. “Do not.” She sticks her tongue out at Charlotte for good measure.

“And we’re all still tryin’ to figure out how Alice rigged it to land on  _ gimel _ every turn she gets,” Becca chimes in as she walks into the room and joins the circle. 

“You gonna play too, Becs?” Bucky asks. 

Becca shakes her head. “Nah, I’ll watch the first round. You already split up the gelt, and besides, I’ll keep an eye on Alice,” she grins. 

“Alright, everyone put a piece in the pot,” Bucky says, dropping one of his coins into the center. Everyone follows suit. “Who’s gonna go first?” he asks, glancing around the circle. 

“Shouldn’t we let Steve go first?” Alice asks. “He is our guest.” 

Bucky nods and holds the dreidel out for Steve to take. 

Hesitantly, Steve reaches out and plucks the dreidel from Bucky’s palm, holding the top between his two fingers. “I just… spin it?” He asks. “Like a spinning top?” 

“Just like a spinnin’ a top,” Bucky confirms. 

“Okay,” Steve says. He twists the dreidel between his fingers and gives it a good spin before letting go. 

All six of them watch with baited breath as the dreidel spins and spins until finally, it drops onto a side. Everyone leans in to get a better look at it. 

“ _ Gimel _ !” Charlotte cries excitedly.

Steve perks up, a grin spreading across his face. “That means I get the whole pot, right?” He asks, turning to Bucky for confirmation.

Bucky has a look of disbelief on his face, but there’s a hint of pride there too. Steve can see it. “You get the whole pot,” he says, pushing the pile towards Steve. “Lucky bastard,” he mumbles under his breath so his sister’s don’t hear. 

Steve hears, though. He gives Bucky a shove and hands the dreidel off to him. “Let’s see if you can’t do any better.” 

Everyone chips in another piece of gelt to the pot, and Bucky spins the dreidel. He’s not as lucky as Steve, but he does land on  _ hey _ , and takes half of the pot. 

The dreidel makes its rounds, each player sending it for a spin and either cheering or groaning in response. Jane ends up having to put a piece of gelt in the center for her first turn, Charlotte takes half the pot, and Alice, to everyone’s surprise, lands on  _ nun _ for her first spin. 

“Well damn, Steve, I think you jinxed her,” Bucky laughs, throwing a casual arm around Steve’s neck. 

Steve laughs and leans into the touch, all too comfortable sitting like this with Bucky. They’re a very touchy feely pair of best friends; his Ma always used to tell him to be careful with it around other folks, because some of them might not be as understanding as their families were. 

Mr. and Mrs. Benson from next door always used to make comments about how close Steve and Bucky were with each other, and how it was so unnatural for such grown boys to act in such a manner. Steve always used to brush it off; he was already bullied and teased for so many other things, what was one more? He would have stopped if Bucky ever told him so. He never wanted Bucky to have to go through anything bad just because of him. But Bucky never told him to stop. Only pulled Steve even closer. 

Sometimes it makes Steve wonder… but he always pushes those thoughts way down deep, too afraid of what dangerous things they could unleash. Instead he just settles for whatever Bucky will give him, and he cherishes it all, even if it the touches are strictly platonic and nothing more. 

“I ain’t jinxed,  _ James _ ,” Alice snaps, turning her nose up. “That was just  _ unlucky _ .” 

“Mhm, okay Alice,” Bucky says. “We’ll see about that.” 

It turns out, Alice was right. It was just unlucky. Almost every single spin following her first, she lands on  _ gimel _ . Her pile of gelt quickly beings to grow as she wipes everyone else out. 

Steve honest to god has no idea how she does it. There really isn’t a way she could cheat in this game. She’s really just that good at it. “You’ve gotta teach me how to do that,” he tells her with a laugh. “I think I’ve landed on  _ nun _ the past three times.”

Alice just smirks at Steve and passes him a single gold coin. “Here, you look like you could use a little charity,” she says, nodding towards his quickly dwindling pile of gelt. He’s only down to three pieces— four thanks to Alice’s donation. 

“Thanks,” he says, dropping the coin into his pile. 

“Wanna know the best part of the whole game?” Bucky asks, nudging his elbow into Steve’s ribs to get his attention.

“What’s that?” Steve asks, giving it to him. 

He watches as Bucky picks up one of the coins in his pile and turns it on its side, picking at the edge until finally it starts to peel back, revealing the smooth chocolate beneath. “This,” he says, flicking one side of the foil off, and then the other. Then he pops it in his mouth. 

“Bucky!” Jane cries. “The game’s not over yet!” 

“Shh, Janey, can’t hear you over the chocolate,” Bucky replies, closing his eyes as he savors the chocolate. 

Jane’s face scrunches up. “That doesn’t even make sense!” 

“You don’t make sense,” Bucky retorts childishly, then pops one eye open and fixes it on Steve. “C’mon, Stevie. Eat one.” 

And well, who’s Steve to say no to Bucky. He picks up the coin Alice gave him and starts to unwrap it, pointedly ignoring the affronted glare Jane’s giving him.

“I see we’ve moved on from playing and have started eating the game pieces now,” Winnie says, announcing her presence with a chuckle.

“Bucky started it!” Charlotte calls, pointing a chocolate smeared finger at Bucky. 

“What can I say, I just love chocolate,” Bucky shrugs. 

“Well, once you’ve all finished your game, the kitchen is all clean so we’re ready to light the candles,” Winnie says. 

Charlotte and Jane jump up, scooping their gelt into their pockets before bolting for the kitchen where the menorah awaits. 

Alice takes her time counting each piece of gelt she has to make sure no one steals from her pile, then follows her sisters into the kitchen. 

“You gonna count yours too?” Bucky teases, grinning at Steve’s last remaining two coins. 

Steve snorts and shakes his head. “I don’t think I need to. Unless  _ you  _ plan on stealin’ them.” He fixes a curious look onto Bucky, and Bucky lifts both of his hands in surrender. 

“Hey, it ain’t me you gotta be worried about. The Barnes girls have sticky fingers,” Bucky jokes. He scoops his gelt into a neat little pile, then rises to his feet, holding a hand out for Steve to take. 

Steve slides his palm into Bucky’s and uses his help to stand up as well. Once on his feet, Bucky tugs him towards the kitchen, their hands still twined as they go. Steve tries not to think anything of it, just focuses on how nice Bucky’s calloused palm feels against his own.

In the kitchen, the dining table has been cleared away, and in place of all the dishes and silverware sits a tall, shining silver candelabra, but it’s not like one Steve’s ever seen before. Its nine candle holders spout beautifully from the stem, creating lovely arches that draw the eye to the top, where the candles are supposed to sit. The ninth candle holder in the very center rises a few centimeters taller than the others, a large silver star sitting right below it. The whole thing is beautiful, and Steve’s captivated by it. He gets a strong desire to pick up his sketchbook and draw it. 

Bucky must see that desire in his eyes, because he ducks in close and whispers, “S’the menorah. Like from the story. Wait ‘till you see it with all the candles lit. S’a sight to see. You’d do wonders drawin’ it.” He flicks his eyebrows up at Steve knowingly and gives his hand a squeeze before finally letting it go. 

Winnie enters the room a moment later, a little box of candles and a pack of matches in hand. She waves them in the air and places them on the table next to the menorah.

“Can I light the candles today?” Jane asks, tugging on Winnie’s skirt. She turns her puppy dog eyes on her mother, pushing her bottom lip out in an adorable pout. Steve honestly has no idea how anyone says no to a single Barnes child, not when all of them have that look down to a T. Hell, Bucky had used that very look on Steve earlier just to get him here, and it worked like a charm.

Winnie smiles at her daughter and smooths her hand across her hair and cups her cheek. “Don’t you think we should let our guest have a go?” She asks, turning kind eyes to Steve.

“Oh,” Steve breathes out, his mouth curving into a surprised circle, eyebrows lifting nearly to his hairline in astonishment. Him? They wanted to let  _ him _ light the candles? 

“Yes!” Jane says excitedly, letting go of her Ma’s skirt to tug at Steve’s shirt instead. “Steve lights the candles!” 

Charlotte joins in on the cheering, and even Alice and Becca pitch in their approval. 

Steve casts a glance around the entirety of the Barnes family before stopping on Bucky. “You… you want  _ me _ to?” He asks, voice wobbly with emotion. 

“Only if you wanna, Stevie,” Bucky says, slipping a hand around Steve’s neck. “Remember I told you you don’t hafta if you ain’t comfortable,” Bucky reminds, squeezing Steve’s shoulder.

“Are you sure?” Steve asks, looking around the circle again. He chews on his lip nervously before continuing. “It’s your holiday, and it’s your family tradition. I really don’t wanna impose.”

Becca places a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder and sends him a reassuring smile. “Steve, you  _ are _ family,” she says. “I’m sure Ma’s told you that, and I  _ know _ Bucky has.” 

“Course I have,” Bucky says with a firm nod. “You know how much you mean to us, Steve. To  _ me _ .” 

Steve kind of feels like he wants to cry, as he stands there surrounded by the Barnes— _his_ family, each one of them wearing matching earnest, kind-hearted looks. The candles aren’t even lit yet, but Steve feels so much warmth flooding through his body. From Becca’s sweet words, to Winnie’s motherly smile, to the twins’s eager chanting. And Bucky. Bucky who has never once made Steve feel like anything less, like he doesn’t belong. With his comforting touches and charming smiles and the way he’s always there for Steve. Bucky Barnes means home, and family, and  _ love _ , and Steve will never be able to thank him enough for it.

He likes to think that his Ma is looking down on him right now, smiling, more than happy that her son isn’t alone, and doesn’t ever have to be. 

There’s the overwhelming urge to pull Bucky into a bone crushing hug, maybe even kiss him a little and tell him how Steve really feels. But Steve knows now isn’t the time, nor the place. Not yet, at least. So he pushes those feelings aside and swallows down his happy tears. “Thank you,” he says, a meaningful smile taking over his face. “Thank you.”

It’s Bucky who pulls him into that hug, wrapping his strong arms around Steve and holding him tight. Steve melts into the hug, burying his nose into Bucky’s neck. He feels a few of those happy tears escape and drip down onto the collar of Bucky’s shirt, and he huffs out a wet laugh. 

Another pair of arms suddenly encircles him, and then another and another and another. Soon, the entire Barnes family is crowded around Steve in one giant group hug. Steve’s heart feels so full it’s going to burst, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

When they finally split apart, Steve wipes at his eyes and sniffs wetly, but he’s wearing an unbreakable smile. “Um,” he says slowly, glancing back towards the menorah. “I’m, uh, I’ve never done this before… I’m not sure if there’s a special way of lighting it…” he trails off. 

Becca reaches for the discarded pack of candles and book of matches. She opens up one end of the box and plucks two white candles from within, then sets the box back down. “These,” she says, holding the candles out for Steve to take, “are the candles for tonight. We only light one on the first night, then two the next, and three and so on and so forth,” she explains. 

A puzzled look wanders across Steve’s face as he looks down at the candles in his hand. “If we only light one, then why did you give me two?” 

“One of these is the  _ shamash _ . That means ‘attendant’ in Hebrew,” Bucky chimes in, plucking one of the candles from Steve. “That one goes in the middle, and we use it to light all the rest of the candles.”

Steve nods and takes the book of matches from Becca’s outstretched hand. “And the… prayers?” He asks. “You said there were prayers you say?” 

“The blessings, yeah,” Bucky says. “Hey, Pa, you know where that little mat that has them on it went? The one we let Janey and Charls use when they were first learnin’ them?” 

“I saw it when I was gettin’ the menorah,” George answers with a nod. “I’ll go get it.” 

“There’s two blessings we have to say each night, but on the first night we have a special third one to recite,” Bucky tells Steve. “This mat thingy has them all in Hebrew, but there’s pronunciations beneath them. They ain’t that hard to figure out how to say, but we’ll go slow for you.” 

For once, Steve doesn’t feel bad about an offer to go slow for his sake. He wants to do this right, and he’s not too proud to deny the help being given here. Not this time. “Thanks, Buck,” Steve says. 

“I’ll help you light the candles, too,” Bucky adds. “So you know how to do it.” 

George returns with the mat and passes it over to Steve, who takes it gratefully. It’s covered with rows and rows of beautiful Hebrew symbols, their pronunciations helpfully supplied right below them. Steve hasn’t ever spoken Hebrew, doesn’t know how, but looking at the symbols, the curves and dots and flourishes, makes him want to learn. Maybe he could have Bucky teach him one day. He thinks that would be nice. 

“Everyone ready?” George asks, glancing around.

All the girls nod excitedly, and Winnie and Bucky agree verbally. Steve does as well.

He makes work of removing a single match and striking it against the side until the flame bursts forth. Once it’s there, he moves it towards the candle in Bucky’s hand and lets the tip of the flamer lick at the candle wick until it too is lit. He waves out the match and sets it aside. 

“Here,” Bucky says, holding out the candle for Steve to take. The other one he’d had early now sits in the first holder on the left side of the menorah, patiently waiting for its light. 

Steve takes the candle from Bucky— the  _ shamash _ — and holds it carefully. Bucky wraps his hand around Steve’s holding onto it as well so he can guide Steve’s hand. It feels very intimate, holding the candle together, with Bucky pressed up against Steve’s side as they do so. Steve can almost imagine a future together, where they’re doing this with their own children.

Together, they lead the  _ shamash _ to the first candle, and press the wicks together. The Barneses start to recite the blessings, and Steve lets his eyes drop to his cheat sheet. 

“ _ Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melekh ha-olam, asher kid-shanu, b’mitzvatav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah _ .”

“ _ Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melekh ha-olam, she-asah nissim la’avoteinu ba-yamim ha-hem u-va-z’man ha-zeh _ .”

“ _ Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melekh ha-olam, she-heheyanu v’kiy’manu v’higiyanu laz’man ha-zeh _ .”

Steve manages to make it through all three of the blessings, only stumbling over his words twice. For having never spoken Hebrew before, he thinks he did a damn good job. He’s pretty proud of himself, if he says so.

Bucky is too, and he tells Steve so. “That was great, Stevie. You really got it down,” he says happily. “By next Sunday you ain’t even gonna need the cheat sheet,” he laughs. 

Steve grins and his heart swells in his chest at the insinuation that he’s invited to join the Barneses Hanukkah celebrations the rest of the week. He’s had such a great time tonight already, the prospect of being able to feel this way for seven more nights is definitely something he likes the sounds of.

With the candles burning away, the Barnes girls make their way back into the living room for a few more rounds of dreidel, and Winnie and George stay in the kitchen to finish making the sufganiyah. Steve starts to follow Becca into the living room as well, but Bucky grabs onto his arm and pulls him aside. 

“We don’t usually give each other our gifts until the last night, just ‘cause it builds suspense,” Bucky laughs softly. “But I can’t wait to give you yours,” he tells Steve, dragging him into his room. 

“Gifts?” Steve repeats, surprise lacing his voice. “I didn’t know we were exchangin’ gifts…” he trails off, suddenly feeling terrible for showing up empty handed. He’d been so busy with his mother’s sudden death that he hadn’t really been focused on anything else. Presents had been the very last thing on his mind. 

Bucky waves a hand through the air and drops to his knees so he can rummage around beneath his bed. He produces a thin, square package covered in old newspapers. With a sheepish smile, he holds it out for Steve to take. 

Steve accepts the package, and moves to sit on the edge of Bucky’s bed, right next to him. Slowly, he tears away the newspaper until it’s gone, only to find the cover of the  _ Catfish Row _ by George Gershwin record lying there. His lips part to form a perfect ‘o’ and his eyes fly up to Bucky. “ _ Bucky _ ,” he breathes. 

Bucky’s got a bashful grin on his face, and he’s twisting his fingers together in his lap as he watches Steve open and admire the gift. “You like it?” He asks. 

“I  _ love _ it,” Steve corrects. “I can’t believe you got it for me.” 

One of Bucky’s shoulders dips in a half-shrug. “I remember you saw it in the window one day and said you really liked his music. Thought I’d save up and get it for you.” 

“Oh, Buck,” Steve gushes. “You really shouldn’t have,” he says, shaking his head. “I feel terrible now. I didn’t get you anythin’ yet… I’ve been so busy with Ma’s… with her funeral.” Steve swallows harshly around the word. “I haven’t had time to fix up a gift.” He drops his gaze down to the record and traces a finger over the front of it.

Bucky scoots closer to Steve and reaches out, his fingers coming to rest just beneath Steve’s chin, lifting his head so their eyes can meet. Steve’s heart catches in his throat when he realizes just how close they are now. 

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours, Stevie,” Bucky replies. “I don’t need a fancy gift or nothin’. ‘S long as I got you with me, that’s more than I could ever ask for, punk.” 

A soft smile pulls at Steve’s lips, and his eyes flicker down to Bucky’s unintentionally. They really are so close, mere inches apart, and the moment feels so charged, an unseen electricity crackling between them. 

“Hey, Buck” Steve asks quietly, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes flicker back up to Bucky’s only to catch them snapping away from Steve’s lips to meet his gaze. “I think… I think I do have one gift I could give you now, to tide you over until I can actually buy somethin’.”

“Oh?” Bucky whispers, lifting a brow. His tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his lips, and Steve watches it intently.

His heart feels like it’s about to hammer right out of his chest, but he doesn’t feel afraid about what he’s about to do. It feels right, like now is exactly when it should happen, and he knows, deep down in his heart, that everything’s going to be just fine. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Steve tips his chin up, his eyes fluttering shut. He purses his lips a little, just enough, and rocks forward, closing the distance between him and Bucky until finally his lips meet their match.

The kiss is chaste, soft and sweet, and it’s everything Steve could have ever imagined and more. Bucky’s lips are warm and plush, and Steve thinks he can pick up the faint taste of the strawberry jelly for the sufganiyah Bucky stole from the bowl when his Ma wasn’t looking. 

The hand Bucky has beneath Steve’s chin shifts so that he’s cupping Steve’s jaw instead, tilting Steve’s head back just enough to change the angle of the kiss. It makes Steve gasp a little, his mouth parting enough for Bucky to slip his tongue in and kiss him deeper. 

Steve’s toes are curling in his socks, and warmth is flooding his veins. His lungs feel light, but Bucky’s kisses are like their own kind of oxygen, filling him with all the air he could ever need. 

When they finally part, Steve’s lips chase Bucky’s, not quite ready to let go. Bucky chuckles softly and obliges, offering one more sweet kiss before truly breaking apart. 

Upon reopening his eyes, Steve’s met with the wonderful sight of a flushed, shiny lipped Bucky, a dopey grin covering his whole face. Steve reaches up to touch his own lip, as if unable to believe that really just happened. He’s breathing a little heavier than normal, but he finds he doesn’t mind it in this context. 

“That’s the best kinda gift I coulda asked for,” Bucky says, a melodic peal of laughter following. 

Steve laughs along, his own grin threatening to split his face in two. “M’glad you liked it,” he replies. “I put a lot of thought into it.” 

“I could tell,” Bucky responds. “It was very personalized.” 

They fall into a whole new round of laughter at that.

When the laughter finally subsides, Steve lifts his head from where he’d buried it into Bucky’s shoulder. He’s still wearing his smile— he doesn’t think he can get rid of it if he tries— but there’s a more serious air about him. “Buck,” he starts. “I just wanna say thank you, again. For askin’ me to come over tonight, and for pushin’ me about it so much. I’m… I’m really glad you did.” He pauses, gnaws on his lip, and takes a big breath before continuing. “Since my Ma… passed… I haven’t really been the same. I haven’t felt truly happy, I guess. I… haven’t quite felt like my home is really a home anymore,” he admits. “But tonight,” his smile returns, “tonight’s been one of the best nights I’ve had in forever, and it’s all thanks to you. I do have a home, Buck. I have a home, and it’s wherever you are, because  _ you  _ make me happiest.” 

Bucky’s eyes shine in wonder as he looks at Steve, and he brings his hand back up to Steve’s cheek. “Steve,” he says, tone filled with awe. He drags his thumb across Steve’s cheek and knocks their foreheads together. “I really love you, Stevie. So damn much.” 

“I really love you too, Bucky,” Steve says back, smiling so big it hurts a little. 

Bucky leans in to steal another kiss, this one lasting much longer than the last one. Steve melts into it, putting everything he can into it. 

“We should probably get back out there before they wonder where we ran off to,” Bucky says, but the way he keeps stealing kisses from Steve in between words says otherwise. 

Steve laughs into the kisses, and nods against Bucky’s lips. “We should,” he agrees, but makes no move to stop.

Finally,  _ finally _ , after a few more minutes getting lost in each other’s mouths, they break apart. Bucky runs his hands through his hair a few times, trying to tame it, before doing the same to Steve, laughing as he only makes it worse. 

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, pushing Bucky’s hands away. “I think it’s as good as it’s gonna get. Hopefully no one will notice.”

Bucky snorts. “You must not know Becca as well as I thought. She notices  _ everything _ .” He gives a  _ what can you do about it _ kind of shrug and reaches down to lace his fingers through Steve’s. “Now c’mon, I wanna kick your ass at dreidel again,” he grins wickedly. 

Steve drops his head back and groans, but lets himself be dragged to his feet by Bucky. “That’s no fair! I’m still gettin’ the hang of it!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think with a kudos and a comment! 
> 
> Come say [hi](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/brooklynbabybucky)! :)
> 
> And come check out this cool [ for marvel content creators!! You can find more information ](https://discord.gg/8gybKrj)[here](https://marvelcreatorsnetwork.tumblr.com/) or feel free to ask about it in the comments!! :)


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